


You Weren't Supposed To Die Today

by wellthisisdefinitelyawkward



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Hurt Ianto Jones, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29703666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellthisisdefinitelyawkward/pseuds/wellthisisdefinitelyawkward
Summary: “Ianto, please - you gotta keep your eyes open for me. There’s not far to go, you can do it.”------------------------------------------------------------------------------Jack didn't think he would lose him this soon.
Relationships: Jack Harkness & Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	You Weren't Supposed To Die Today

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first story on AO3, so sorry if it's terrible! Blood is mentioned in this and there are a few very vague description of a wound, so just a heads up on that.

“Ianto, please - you gotta keep your eyes open for me. There’s not far to go, you can do it.” Jack is desperately pleading as he staggers through the trees. He has one arm wrapped tightly around Ianto’s waist - pressing a torn piece of his shirt to a gaping wound on the man’s side. His other hand is clutching at Ianto’s where it’s slung over his shoulder. 

“Jack, please, you have to stop. We- we won’t make it.” Ianto is almost a dead weight by now. He’s gasping in pain at every step; the slash near his stomach sapping away his energy with each splash of blood that falls to the forest floor. 

“We need to get you some help. We’re almost there.”

They both knew that was a lie. 

“Jack, please. It’s not- There’s not enough time. I don’t have enough time. Just- just stop.”

He’s been trying to hold back tears for a while now, but Ianto’s pleas - his voice pained and tight - make the last threads of his control snap. The first sob claws its way up his throat and Jack’s knees collapse beneath him. He falls down at the base of a tree, the rough bark scraping his ear as he sends leaves scattering around them. Ianto yelps in pain, but Jack catches him and gathers him carefully onto his lap. He’s sprawled against him, head resting on his stomach, face ghostly pale.

(Much paler than usual. Too pale. Jack can vaguely recall a memory of the beach, from a happier time; full of sand and sun. He remembers Ianto’s jokes; “My skin is so white that I don’t tan, I burn. So I will actually need that sunscreen, thank you very much.” He remembers laughing, teasing him for being a vampire. It doesn't seem so funny now.)

A strangled groan brings Jack’s focus back to the present; back to the cold forest; back to the slowly dying man in his arms. The fading light of dusk has cast everything in a grey-ish light, making the trees seem taller and changing the colour of Ianto’s hair to a soft black. The white shirt that Jack had balled up and used to staunch the blood flowing from the gash on Ianto’s side is now a dirty dark red. He wishes he had worn his dark blue one today. Maybe then he could ignore the nightmarish crimson seeping through the fabric.

“I’m so sorry, I should have- I didn’t- it’s all my fault Ianto and- and there’s too much blood and I can’t do anything and-”

He’s cut off by a shaky hand resting on his cheek. Blue-green eyes meet grey and there’s so much pain reflected in each that they both have to look away.

“Don’t-” Ianto wheezes out a breath, “- don’t worry. It had to happen someday, didn’t it? I’m not afraid to die, Jack.”

Another sob tries to rip its way out of his mouth, but he forces it back. He will not cry. He has to be strong.

“No, Ianto. Don’t say that. Don’t. We- uh, we’re going to get through this. In a week you’ll be on your feet again and it’ll be like normal because you’re not gonna die, dammit! I can’t- I can’t ever lose you, Ianto, you understand? Not today, don’t do this today.”

A tired, pained smile flits over Ianto’s ashy face. He’s already accepted that they can’t stop the bleeding, that they are too far away from any help. He knows that he’s going to die here; amongst the trees and leaves. At least he won’t be alone. That’s all he can really ask for, whilst working for Torchwood - to have someone with him when he goes.

“Jack, it’s… I’m glad you're here,” he swallows heavily and grunts in pain, “Stay here with me, there's noth- nothing you can do.”

They meet each other's eyes one last time - saying everything with their gazes that they can’t say out loud.

Ianto opens his mouth to speak again, but he coughs wetly, blood dribbling down his chin. He weakly shakes his head when Jack goes to wipe it away.  
“No, jus’ leave.. Jus’ leave it. Can you keep-” another cough, “-talking? I like.. I like your voice.” His words are slurring and his eyelids are fluttering - threatening to close forever.

“I’m so sorry, Ianto; so sorry that I didn’t do more for you. Ok, Ianto? You- you keep your eyes open, yeah? Right. Ok. Do- do you remember that time when…”

He let the story wash over him with his lips still pulled up into a faint smile. This was fine, a good way to die; lying in the arms of the only person he’s ever felt truly safe with. He can almost ignore the sharp stabbing pain in his abdomen as he focuses on Jack's presence around him. It’s not long before he can’t stop the urge to close his eyelids. He doesn’t fight it.

One final breath.

“H-hey, are you still with me?”

Ianto’s hand slips away from his cheek - limp.

Only then does Jack let himself sob freely, because there’s no one else left to see him cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for killing Ianto :(  
> ~B <3


End file.
